Secrets and Pasts
by Firebird'sDaughter
Summary: This is what would happen (not in chronological order) if someone essentially asked me to rewrite the Twilight books. Read at your own risk, as I blatantly "fix" things I didn't like, and have a plethora of OCs. I'm not going to do anything chronological unless there seems to be enough demand, so it's sort drabbley. (The M will come in later chapters. Maybe. T for now? OC-tastic.)
1. The Beginning

"I can't **believe** you." Benjamin stalked into the large, rather blockish house, pulling of the light gray designer jacket he wore. His creator, Amun, looked up from the couch, where he was carving something out of dry wood. He went back to it after raising his eyebrows at Benjamin tiredly.

"You can't, hmm?" His tone was dismissive, but Benjamin was not backing down.

"He's your friend. He **was** your friend, at least. How could you just walk out on him like that?" Tia came in behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder. He wasn't sure wether she was supporting him, or trying to hold him back. He didn't care, stalking right up to Amun. "Answer me." He hissed furiously. Amun looked up at him again, putting the paper down.

"... You're getting snow on the carpet. I thought Kebi asked you to keep it clean?" Benjamin let out a loud snarl, causing Kebi to come in from the kitchen to see what was going on. Amun glanced at her, then back at Benjamin. "Alright, Benjamin. I'll explain: In everyone's life, there are priorities. You have to keep them in order."

"What could possibly be more important then your friend's life?" Amun sighed, looking at the roof.

"Sometimes, you have to make a hard choice. It turned out fine, didn't it? Do you think I would have left if I had thought it wouldn't?"

"_Yes_."

"Well, then you do me an injustice." Amun stood, brushing off his fading jeans, which Benjamin was fairly certain he had **not** been wearing the last time the saw each other. Nor had the elder vampire been wearing the brick red collared shirt he now wore, with the sleeves rolled up. He had also never seen the scruffy black boots he had on now before. Also, Amun's ponytail, which kept his long, pin-straight black hair from falling in his face, was tighter the usual. Tia noticed as well.

"Did you change?" She murmured. Amun looked at her.

"What? Oh, yes, I suppose." He muttered, turning away.

"Amun." Benjamin said sharply. "You still haven't explained yourself." Amun turned back, raising a black eyebrow. Kebi moved forward, leaning her hands on the back of the couch, her lips moving, and though Benjamin couldn't hear what she was saying, she seemed to be trying to calm Amun down.

"I've explained all I need to explain." Benjamin gritted his teeth.

"He saved your **life**. Eleazar told me. He **saved** you. Is betrayal any way to repay him!" Just watching Amun freeze and tense, Benjamin didn't need the look on his elder's face when he turned to realize he had gone **way** too far. Amun's jaw was tight, and his red eyes were burning.

"What was that?" His voice was icy and very soft. "**_What_** was that?" Benjamin took a step back. He had never seen Amun so angry before, not in his entire life.

"I-I just-" But Amun wasn't going to hear it.

"No." He hissed sharply. "Never mind." Amun seemed to grow taller, or maybe he was just standing straighter then he usually did. Whatever it was, he towered above Benjamin. "Try looking at this from my perspective, will you? Someone who's been your friend for years, you both owe each other lives many times over, and when you and your other friends parted, you made an agreement to always come help each other if needed." Benjamin started to say something, but Amun held up a hand. "And then, when you do get called one, it clashes with your other priorities, like trying to keep your family **alive**. It's not to say you don't care about your friend, but you're torn over other things." Amun's hands were shaking. Kebi moved closer to him, but he jerked away from her. "**No**! The boy needs to **learn**!"

"You don't have to shout at him, beloved!" She whispered, her voice deep and urgent. "**Please**!" But Amun was not finished.

"Silence, will you?" He snarled, then turned back to Benjamin. "What you think of as loyalty and betrayal is only a shadow of what lies between myself and the others. I want to make this **clear**, child. You. Will. Not. Call. Me. A. Traitor. Again. Do you understand?!" Benjamin nodded, unable to do anything else in front of his seething creator. Amun made a disapproving noise, then turned and stalked out of the room. Kebi came over to them.

"Benjamin..."

"It's not my fault! He's the one who-"

"Son, if you touch your father's coat in the hall, you'll find it's still cold and wet." Kebi said softly. "Carlisle was never alone out there."


	2. Gemini?

_Actually, the description partially lied. Oh well. This here actually was meant to connect to chapter one, but it __**is**__ capabke of standing alone._

_Enjoy, don't hate. You hate, I cry. Again, feedback is nice. 3_

* * *

There were three of them, and they had been running for a day and a night straight. The leader was a tall, lean, blonde man whose hair stuck up like feathers no matter how many times he smoothed it down. He wore a gray pinstripe suit that was torn and soiled from crashing through the woods. He was carrying a black leather bag slung over his shoulder, and he kept one hand upon it as he ran, ensuring that it remained close at his side. The other two carried no bags, but both were armed. The woman bore a long bow and a quiver of arrows on her back, and the man a halberd, which he occasionally used to cut through tree branches. Though none of them looked back, there was a sharp sense of pursuit, the feeling of knowing that one is being chased without actually seeing the chaser. It was the man with the halberd they caught first, knocking him out of a tree and plummeting towards the grounds in a mess of hisses and snarls and battle. The woman killed two of them, but they outnumbered her on the ground, swarming from the bushes. The blonde man kept running—and however much he might have wanted to, he was given no chance to look for his comrades. Suddenly, the forest around him burst into rabid flames.

"Give them to me **now**, de Cameron." Snarled a voice with a sharp, metallic edge to it from the shadows. "And I'll let you live." The blonde man let out a short, bitter laugh.

"There was never a single one of the Nineteen who would trust a Golem's word!" He snapped back, taking the bag down from his shoulder. Then he swung it once around his head and threw it with what must have been all his strength. It sailed out of the clearing, over the circle of flames, and vanished into the growing dawn. Almost the instant he released the bag, silver wires wrapped themselves around the blonde's arm, shoulder, and throat, each one extending from the shadows. With a sharp jerk, they brought him, panting, to his knees. A set of thick-soled army boots crunched across the forest bed to where he knelt, fighting for air. White gloved hands seized his shirt collar, lifting him off the ground.

"**Where**. **Did**. **You**. **Send**. **Them**?!" The voice demanded, shaking him. The blonde chuckled weakly.

"Poor, poor Rico... What will you tell Katlynn? You've failed." His captor let out an incomprehensible, guttural growl and threw him back down on the ground forcefully.

* * *

Miles away, Benjamin, taking a **very** long walk to cool down, was very nearly hit on the head by a shiny, black leather shoulder bag. He ducked out of the way, just in time, then turned a crouched beside the bag. He poked it a few times, then quickly and delicately opened it and dumped out its contents. A pair of gilded, identical, twin handguns slid out of the bag's lined interior and onto the leaf-covered ground. In the still-low light, they glistened unnaturally, particularly the word inscribed in thin, gold engraving: 'Gemini.' Very, very slowly, Benjamin extended a hand, and brushed his fingers across the smooth surface of one of the handguns. Some sort of electric-like shock surged through him the instant he touched it, however, and he jerked back quickly.

* * *

Back in the clearing, the blonde man jerked at the same instant, as if from the same shock. Then he let out a single, relieved sigh, and let his eyes close.

* * *

When Benjamin returned to the house, a note on the dinning room table said that Tia and Kebi had gone shopping, which confused him, because he knew very well that Kebi hated to shop. He could hear Amun pacing in the living room, and realized that Kebi had probably been trying to clear out the house so that the two of them could 'talk things over.' Benjamin swallowed, deciding to try and be an adult about it. He stepped into the room.

"Amun, I-" His creator jumped sharply, whirling, his eyes wide in surprise. "-Um... Hi?" Amun shook his head.

"What is it?" Benjamin sighed, coming in and putting the bag on the coffee table. As soon as it was in view, his creator's eyes locked on to it, as if it were an object of some great purport. "What is **that**?"

"I don't know. That's just it. It dropped on my head while I was walking..." He flipped the bag open and dumped the two handguns onto the table. It was like he'd released a cobra. Amun jerked back instantly, staring at the two weapons as if they were going to leap off the table's surface and attack him. Then he turned quickly away, covering his eyes, like it hurt to look at them.

"Put them away."

"What-"

"Just do it. Those things are dangerous. Put them away, and tell no one they're here." Benjamin hurriedly did as he was told, and then Amun took the bag from him, his face serious. "Tell **no one**." He repeated.

"Amun-" Benjamin began, but the older vampire held up a hand.

"Not even **Tia**. Do you understand?" Benjamin swallowed, and nodded. Amun shook his head, and left the room agitatedly. Benjamin did not see him for the rest of the night.

* * *

Somewhere in northern Sweden, the doors of an old, worn church burst open, and two bent, limping figures entered the long hall. The woman who sat at the head of the long table rose quickly, moving to them.

"Where is Khaled?" She asked in a deep, worried voice. The man shook his head.

"We lost him in the forest." He explained in a hoarse voice. "They caught up to us."

"The bag?" Both shook their heads.

"We do not know." The woman said in a heavy Russian accent. "We failed. I am sorry." The woman held out her hands.

"Do not worry, my friends. We must not lose hope." She gestured to others, who came forward and helped the two out of the room. She walked to a window, staring out at the snow. "We must not lose hope, that the Gemini will find their way home..."

* * *

Benjamin and Tia were dragged out of bed early the next morning by Kebi—who had apparently decided that they should go shopping again. This made Benjamin wonder if something was actually wrong. Kebi despised shopping; while she had probably taken Tia out yesterday so that Amun and Benjamin could talk, two days in a row was just unnatural. That wasn't to say that the tiny, figured Egyptian vampire wasn't a snappy dresser, but Benjamin had always been of the opinion that the fashionable clothes just materialized in her closet. There was no sign of Amun as Kebi rushed them about which was unusual, every time he tried to ask, however, she'd change the subject. Benjamin was becoming **quite** certain that Amun knew something about the black bag, and that Kebi was in on it. She towed them out the door to her small black sports car, climbing in. Though they were still a good distance from any other people, living in the Rhakotis district, which was actually one of the poorest. Benjamin knew that Amun and Kebi could have absolutely anywhere they wanted, and living in the slums of Alexandria was one of the things they did that greatly confused him. Whenever he asked, both of them would dismiss the question. He sighed, leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes and deciding not to think about it.

The reason Benjamin had not seen Amun that morning was because his creator had been upstairs, staring at the bag as it lay on his bed. Then, very carefully, again as if it had a live cobra inside, he opened it and allowed the two guns to fall onto the covers. He dropped the bag, staring down at them, and, taking a deep breath, reached out towards one. He touched one fingertip to the barrel. The instant he touched it, a jolt ran through him, but he did not flinch back like his son had; something like a flash of light clouded his vision, making him blink.

* * *

In Sweden, the woman's head snapped around, her eyes widening.

* * *

In Baghdad, Iraq, a man dropped everything he was holding and froze.

* * *

In Madrid, Spain, a man very nearly drove off the road, and a woman leapt up, uttering a spanish war-cry.

* * *

In Forks, Washington, Carlisle simply fell over in the hospital hallway.

* * *

In London, England, a woman fell off the bridge she had been standing on.

* * *

In Rome, Italy, a young woman stumbled, catching herself on the wall.

* * *

In Kyoto, Japan, a man and a woman sat up sharply in bed.

* * *

In Moscow, Russia, a man suddenly stopped talking, as if he couldn't breathe.

* * *

And somewhere, in the darkest reaches of the world, Khaled's eyes snapped open. His captor turned on him immediately.

"Where are they?" Despite being fastened securely to the stone wall so that his bare feet just barely touched the ground, Khaled de Cameron still managed to flash the remnants of a smug smile.

"You're... Too late..." He wheezed. "... They're... Home..." The other man snarled, slamming his hand down on Khaled's eyes, tiny wires protruding from and boring into the blonde vampire's skull. Flashes of what had transpired played from both of them, until the other man stepped back.

"So, Iboni has got his half back..." He murmured softly. "Well then. We'll just have to make absolutely sure that **Cullen** does not get his!" He looked over his shoulder. "Deploy the Patrol Golems, and have them wait for my order!" He was about to go, then turned back to Khaled, gripping his face in his palm. "I **will** find the Gemini, and when I do, I will drag their bearers here, and put them to death right in front of you!" He laughed cruelly when Khaled's eyes widened slightly. Crossing to the door, he paused one last time. "And then I'll do the same with that Mesopotamian creator of yours!" His disturbing, mechanical laughter echoed long after he was gone.


	3. Governments And Bargaining Chips

_I wrote this a very long time ago. It's sort of weird, but... You know. Odd. It was based off of an idea I had because I didn't like Aro or the way Meyer handled the Egyptian Coven. Or the way she handled the entire novel..._

_On that note, no hating, please. I'm a sensitive person. I'm just throwing this out there because... I can. Yeah. Feedback is always nice, though._

_(I do realise this is a little holey as a stand-alone. I may write more to give more background to it, but I had this and was like, what the hell.)_

_Another warning: there is a discussed character death. No, I am not telling you if the character is actually dead. No, that does **not** mean they are alive.**  
**_

* * *

It was early in the morning when the younger vampires, along with Nef and Josephine (some girls who Tia had befriended), managed to get back to the Iboni's home in the poor Rhakotis district, and they were surprised when they found a sleek black limousine parked outside.

"That is... Quite a car." Josephine commented, whistling. "Were you guys expecting guests?" Benjamin frowned, shaking his head.

"Not that I know of..." Suddenly, Nef gasped, nearly falling but catching herself on the wall, her eyes wide and blank.

"It's near." She said, in a voice that was too deep to be her own. "Rebellion is near." Then she snapped out of it, holding her head.

"What?" Bella demanded, but the Egyptian girl shook her head.

"Do not listen to me, I know not what I say." She murmured, waving a hand, then grabbing Josephine and pulling her away. After they left, Edward stepped forward.

"She may have a point, though. It's the Volturi." Benjamin and Tia looked at each other, and then they all rushed into the house. They were brought to a sudden stop outside of living room, however, at the sound of Amun's voice, hissing angrily.

"**Aro**? I'd rather trust a poisonous **snake**!" Working around each other, they peered through the partially open door. Kebi was sitting on one of the large black armchairs—Caius, it seemed, had claimed the couch. They could just see two black cloaks behind him, probably members of the Guard. Amun stood behind Kebi, his hands resting on the back of her chair. Despite Amun's testy tone, Caius kept his voice even.

"I assure you, Iboni, this is just a matter of state." Amun let out a disbelieving snort, and from Kebi's apprehensive expression, she didn't believe it either. She twisted around, laying a hand over his.

"I don't like this; don't go, beloved." Amun turned his hand over and gripped her smaller one tightly. Caius sighed, addressing Kebi this time.

"My lady, I give you my **word** no harm will come to him." There was another moment of uncomfortable silence before Amun took a deep breath.

"Very well, if you don't mind taking the back door." Caius nodded and rose as well. Kebi got up quickly, taking both her husband's hands and pulling him over to the corner by the door, meaning their children could still hear them.

"Amun-" She began, but he put a finger to her lips, glancing over his shoulder at Caius and the guards.

"Think about this, darling. Look at what he wants and who he's brought. We don't have a choice here. I'll be back as soon as I can; take care of the children." She touched his face.

"Ninety-nine out of the hundred they take never come back!" Amun didn't answer that, swallowing, then touching her cheek and kissing her quickly before picking up his suit jacket from the other arm chair and pulling it on, then moving over to Caius by the back door. They exchanged a brief nod, and then left the room. Kebi stood still for a few seconds, then stumbled to the door, clinging to the frame, her shoulders shaking. They came in slowly.

"Kebi?" Benjamin asked quietly. "What happened?" She just shook her head, holding her hand over her heart, glancing at them once with an expression of horrible agony, then turned and fled sobbing upstairs.

"... Thank god Nef and Josephine didn't see that." Rosalie muttered softly. Benjamin sat down slowly on the couch, confused.

"Why would they want **him**?"

"Probably, they want you." Alice pointed out. Tia sat beside her mate and put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure it will be fine." Though Tia was usually the comforting one, here she was the herald of the horribly honest.

"Except that mother was right; ninety-nine out of a hundred they take never come back." The statement was greeted by tense silence.

* * *

"I have been very patient regarding what this is about." The throne room of Volterra was mostly empty. Amun stood several steps from the dais that the thrones sat upon, and only Aro occupied the center throne. The Egyptian vampire had his arms folded tightly, his jaw locked. Aro was much more relaxed, leaning back in his throne with the air of someone who knew who was calling the shots.

"You were always so demanding, Amun." He commented cooly. "Surely you must understand the reason for this meeting." Amun's mouth twitched.

"... Benjamin." Aro smiled like a cat who knows the mouse has figured out the trap too late. He rose grandly. Amun's shoulders flexed. "So, have you decided to abandon all your pretenses?" The Volturi leader laughed, walking to the edge of the dais so he could still look down on the other man.

"You could say that, my friend. Since you are such a... Brutally honest man, I will be plain. I believe the boy would be better suited here than in Egypt." There no hesitation in Amun's reply.

"No." Aro had been expecting this.

"Perhaps I was not clear; the decision is now out of your hands, Amun Iboni." Amun unfolded his arms.

"**I** am Amun Iboni, son of Hatshepsut, an heir of the Queen's House, a member of one of Egypt's oldest royal families, and former advisor of Ramses II and his wife Nefretari. **You** are Aro Caesar, the son of a Roman General and an Etruscan slave woman. I think we **both** know what is wrong with the picture of **you** giving **me** and **my** family orders." Aro flinched just slightly at the reminder that the Egyptian vampire had both outranked and outlived him. Amun wasn't finished. "Benjamin is my **son**. He is not a bargaining chip, nor is he something to be owned. He is a **person**. I swear to you that, while I am alive, you will **never** have him as one of your pets!" He spat the last word at the Volturi elder's feet. Aro's eyes widened only a little, then he dropped all pretense of friendliness. Amun had thrown down a glove, and Aro would be damned if he didn't pick it up. There was a rustle as two of the larger members of the guard emerged in the back of the hall.

"Then you leave me with no other choice, grandfather." Despite the appropriate, respectful title for an older royal, there was a malicious glee in Aro's voice. The guards took Amun's arms, and though he tensed sharply, he knew perfectly well that running, fast as he was, would never work. Aro smiled cruelly. "Keep him downstairs until he decides to cooperate." The hooded heads nodded, and were about to go when their leader spoke again. "And you, ah, don't need to be nice to him." There was something dark about the statement that made it sound like it was an order to do something much worse than being 'not nice.'

* * *

"You arrested Amun Iboni?!" Aro looked up from his desk in surprise when Caius burst into his office.

"... Yes?" Caius brought his hands down over the papers Aro had been writing on.

"I gave them my **word** no harm would come to him." Aro raised his eyebrows.

"Well..." He said slowly, unsure what to make of the new development, "that was true when you said it." Caius pulled back, staring at his brother with an expression even Aro couldn't read. When he reached out a hand to touch the other elder's however, in an attempt to learn his thoughts, Caius jerked sharply away, then stormed out of the room. Aro stared after him a moment, then went to a side door, opening it. One of the guards stood there. He leaned on the door frame. "I am beginning to grow concerned," he said darkly, "about Caius."

* * *

The days went by. And then the weeks. And still, **still** there was no sign of or from Amun. Kebi rarely spoke, spending most of her time locked in the upstairs bedroom. Benjamin and Tia had gone up and tried to talk her once during the night, but peeking through the crack in the door, they had seen her sitting still as a statue on the bed, clutching something dark to her chest. A moment's examination revealed that she held Amun's trench coat; they had thought better of bothering her and headed back downstairs. It was the day the Egyptian army walked in the door that everything changed. Benjamin and Tia were just getting back to the house when a man and a woman, accompanied by several others, pulled up in a car and a motorcycle respectively and started toward the house. The two younger vampires darted in, Tia calling for Kebi. The group came in without invitation as the elder woman entered the room, the man sitting down casually on the couch.

"Ptolemy." Kebi said tersely, folding her arms. "What is this?" The man shrugged.

"We needed to talk to you."

"You can't just walk into the house!"

"What, is it illegal or something?"

"Yes!"

"Well... Sorry." The woman, who was clearly of a far less friendly nature than her companion, remained standing. "We **do** need to speak with you, though."

"Very well." Snapped Kebi. "Benjamin, Tia, go upstairs." They were about to obey when Ptolemy interrupted.

"They should stay. What we have to talk about concerns the boy." For a moment, Benjamin thought Kebi was going to punch the man, but she didn't. She merely gave a tiny nod, and he and Tia moved uncomfortably to sit on the other end of the couch. Kebi sat in the same chair she always did, her back erect. Ptolemy took out a cigarette, but a look from Kebi made him put it in his mouth without lighting it.

"So... What has this got to do with me?" Benjamin asked. Ptolemy looked at him, then at Kebi.

"You haven't told him?" Benjamin looked at his mother.

"Told me what?" Kebi's jaw tightened.

"It did not seem to be necessary. I thought we were over this mess." The tension in the room was high, Benjamin was pretty sure it could have been cut with a knife. Ptolemy suddenly seemed to remember something, sitting up on the couch.

"Ah, yes. Um." He leaned his elbows on his knees. "I am afraid our entrance did not warrant the news we bring."

"I can attest." Kebi replied icily. Benjamin was starting to be very afraid of her in this temperament. "You're lucky Amun wasn't here. He'd have ripped your head off." Ptolemy shifted uncomfortably.

"That's sort of it." He said. "Thing is, Kebi... Amun's dead. The Volturi executed him this morning." The icy mask did not exactly drop from her face; it stayed there, but an element of horror and surprise was painted across it. Ptolemy looked at her, his own face drawn with sympathy. "I'm sorry." He tried to reach over and put a hand on her arm, but she stood suddenly and turned away from them, facing the fireplace. Benjamin **had** picked up a coaster and started flipping it over in his hands, but at this announcement it suddenly slipped from his fingers, falling to the ground with an impossibly loud thump. Tia's eyes widened. Though they may not have always got on with Amun, the idea of his being dead had never so much as occurred to them—he had just seemed so, so **there**. Ptolemy's hand remained partially extended, as if he could somehow channel comfort to Kebi without actually touching her. His female companion stepped forward.

"You understand, of course, our reason for coming." She said in a sharp, emotionless voice. Tia, Benjamin, and even Ptolemy looked at her in surprise, but Kebi did not so much as flinch.

"I am afraid not." She whispered. The woman drew herself up, dismissing Ptolemy with a look when he put a hand up in caution and hissed:

"Anai..." When she didn't respond, he let the hand fall on the back of the couch, and watched her with apprehension as she spoke.

"The leader of this coven is dead." Anai continued, stepping around the couch, and even the room with a grand air. "It is by law that what was his is now the Pharaoh's. Being, we are here to collect." The glance she shot at Benjamin did not go unnoticed by anyone, especially not it's subject, who did not like the impression he was getting of the situation.

"Wait... You want... **Me**?"

"Naturally." Replied Anai, as if this were the most obvious thing in the world. "We would have taken you before, of course, but were refused. I realize this must be a shock for you, but it is not the Pharaoh's fault that your father was too much of a coward-"

"Quiet!" The growl was so sudden and abrupt, not so much as loud, that it made them all stop. Kebi turned around, and the ice mask was now truly gone. In it's place was an expression so furious, Benjamin half expected Anai to burst into flames when his mother looked at her. There was such an aura of majesty and power about her that he found himself inching backwards from her; out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ptolemy doing the same. "Quiet." Kebi repeated, in an evener tone. "If my husband is truly dead, then **I** am the leader of this coven, and all of Egypt buys not the boy of me." For a moment, Anai looked shocked, then recovered her vacant expression.

"**You**?" She sneered, looking down her nose at Kebi. To Benjamin, however, petite, little Kebi seemed a much more frightening prospect.

"Yes, me; as a daughter of Tutmose II, half sister of Tutmose III, wife of the son of Hatshepsut, and an heiress of Egypt's Queen. **His** mother," she growled, jabbing a finger at Benjamin, "was a lady of **my** order!" She brought her hand back to her chest, indicating herself in one sharp gesture. "And full often had she gossiped with me, and sat with me, on the Nile's yellow sands..." There was a moment where her eyes looked dreamy, and her face was that of one recalling a pleasant memory, but it faded suddenly when the dream turned sorrowful. "But she—being mortal—of that boy, did die; and for her sake, I have reared up her son, and for her sake..." Kebi drew herself up, and, in that moment, in her sharp, figured business suit, the tiny woman towered over her adversary. Even Anai fell back; and in Benjamin's eyes, she seemed to lose all her menace and her strength. It was as if she crumbled before the furious majesty of the woman before her. Though Kebi's voice got quieter rather than louder, it seemed to resonate throughout the room. "I. Will. **Not**. Part. With. Him." Anai fell back step, trying to recover her dignity, but as far as the two younger vampires were concerned, she would never be able to.

"V-very well." She snapped quickly, her blank mask slipping, showing arrogance and cruelty. She looked to Ptolemy, but quickly saw that he would be no help to her. "**I**, at least, will return." With that, she turned and swept out of the room. The entourage followed her quickly, and after a moment, Ptolemy rose and went to the door. He paused in the frame, looking back at Kebi. When she ignored him, however, he looked at Benjamin, swallowing and tugging at his shirt's collar a bit.

"I, uh... I **am** sorry." He said quietly, looking at the floor. "A-about your father. He... He was a friend of mine." Then, he, too, turned and left. The instant they heard the engines start and pull away outside, Kebi turned and ran up the stairs—they heard her crying before she even reached the room. Benjamin and Tia moved to the bottom of the stairs, and where about to follow her up them when, almost as their first visitors left, more arrived.

"Who was that?" Rosalie asked, walking through the front door without knocking. "That one woman looked like she'd just lost a fight."

"Oh, I do hope nothing bad happened." Esme said, coming quickly in around the blond vampire. Carlisle followed them in with the others.

"What **did** happen?" Benjamin just shook his head, speechless; it was Tia who took up the story.

"We're not certain. Some people just walked in here, and..." She took a deep breath, "and apparently Amun is dead; Kebi's upstairs crying." As if to accent the words, a long, agonized sob trailed through the house. Carlisle and Esme looked at each other, then headed quickly up the stairs. The others remained below, all of them quite shocked.

"**Dead**, wow." Alice said softly. "That's two people I know who are dead..." Benjamin returned to the couch, sitting down and putting his head in his hands. Tia came over and laid hand on his shoulder. He was pretty sure he was starting to piece this together. If Egypt had a vampire government, it was likely that they wanted to remain on good terms with the Volturi; the best way to do that? Give them something they want. What did Egypt have that the Volturi wanted? Him. Caius's 'matter of state' had probably been a ploy to get Amun out of the way, as they had probably decided he was their greatest obstacle. It was funny how the man he always argued with had proven to be his most dutiful protector. He was fortunate none of them had taken Kebi into account. Then, something else hit him.

"This is my fault." The words broke sharply from him, half sob, half growl. They all stared at him.

"It is not!"

"Benjamin!" He stood.

"It **is**! If Amun hadn't added me to his coven, he'd still be alive, wouldn't he? Kebi's heart wouldn't be broken, all of this wouldn't have happened..." He shook his head. "What the hell **is** all of this anyway?!"

No one knew.

* * *

It was very late that night, when Tia was out hunting and Benjamin was sitting at his desk in their room. It was less sitting than putting his head down on his arms, closing his eyes, and pretending everything was fine. The radio warbled quietly, but he shut it off suddenly half way through the line 'You don't know what you got 'til it's gone' because he couldn't handle the irony; he **hadn't** known what he had until it was gone. He was still in the same position when the door opened slowly, and a pair of high heels clicked in, making his eyes open suddenly as Kebi's scent reached him. She didn't come very far in—just to the edge of his desk.

"I know you two didn't always get along." She said softly, her voice still husky from her sobbing. "But he **did** love you; more than his own life." She laid something down on his desk. "Do him the favor of reading this. He kept it in ancient Egyptian, but I've transcribed it for you." She patted the cover of the thing. "Perhaps it will help you understand him." Then she left the room. He sat up slowly. Lying next to his elbow was a small, black book, with sheafs of paper sticking out of it. He leaned over and pulled in front of him, opening it carefully. The notebook itself had no lines, but it was indeed written in ancient Egyptian short-hand, making Benjamin remember that he had never actually seen Amun **write**. The characters were drawn simply, easily, and something about the short, purposefully hand made him sure that it was written by his creator. The leaves of paper were covered in Kebi's small, curly handwriting. He ran his fingers over the page of the book, then looked at the paper:

'Kebi keeps telling I need to learn how to read and write in a modern language. This is my response. My language is not dead one, it's just that only the immortals still remember it. Though I do admit people's reaction to me being unable to read is a bit disappointing, I will maintain my current position. _Women_.' Benjamin smiled a little. He flipped through it slowly, until he suddenly came to an entry that mentioned him:

'I had **another** argument with Benjamin today. I'm not sure who is at fault anymore—I lose my temper too quickly, and he intentionally provokes me. I have never been gifted with speaking to children, not even when I was human. I was expected to behave like an adult from the age of seven, and probably would have been in serious trouble for saying even **one** of the things I allow that boy to say to me. We have so little in common from what I can see; I am not at all certain there is **any** way for me to communicate with him. Kebi says she thinks we are **too** similar at heart, that we are both stubborn as mules, and proud as them, too. I suspect that she is mostly referring to me with the last, as she often tells me I have to let pride go once in a while. The thing is, my pride, my dignity as a member of the House of Hatshepsut, is all I have left. My mother is gone. My sister is gone. There are very few things in this world that matter to me anymore, and the name of my house is one of them. Kebi says that I need to **tell** Benjamin this, but I am uncertain as to how. He already thinks that I am trying to control his life, and every day the rift between us gets larger. If I could tell him about the real reason we left Cairo for Alexandria, then perhaps he would see, but I am afraid that if I **do** tell him, he will want to do something about it. I couldn't bear anything happening to him; not like that.' He stared, open-mouthed, at the page. It had never occurred to him that Amun had **not** been trying to control him; he had always felt the older vampire's obsessiveness was intended to chain him down—the journal made it seem as if it had been extreme overprotectiveness. Deeper within the pages were other things he had never known about Amun; a sister who's name his creator was unable to remember, much to his frustration; an unending fear that something was going to happen to the people he loved—to the brink of paranoia, even; he found a newspaper clipping tucked inside from a few years ago, one about a sudden rash of brutal murders in downtown Alexandria. He remembered it—they'd realized with surprise that all the victims had been vampires, all pieces of them burned, save their heads, which had been left in public places. "Oh my god... **This** is why he didn't want us out by ourselves... He was scared we'd end up on the front page..." Amun made a brief note about the murders stopping; apparently the 'Egyptian army' caught the killer.

Tucked into the back of the book were another set of pages, these ones bound together with twine and yellowed with age. They were marked with Amun's writing as well, and Kebi had translated them, too. What caught his attention, however, were the dates; taking into account the age when he'd been turned, this make-shift journal had been started before he was even born. He eased it out carefully, trying not to damage the aged pages, and began to read...

* * *

_And you'd better hope I post a next chapter if you want to know what they said!_


End file.
